Lucky Jefferson

I got a landmine for my last birthday. She ordered me to plant it in our yard.

After retirement, the years become a blur

flesh of
fruit
soft but
un ripe

I still write about sunsets.
Mundane as it is, the closest
I have ever come to God

Tell me who you are.

I still remember the day I sat on a padded bench among other women

After we younglings in choir loft intone our last song, we close our hymnals...

I cried for nothing last night.

Tipping Catch it up frontSplit-second eye contactSo much stuffedIn two tiny orbs True person comes throughReacts to youSlips through your fingersBecomes someone else Ditches of painLittle space in-betweenBreath held for daysFalse smile of survival Flatfooted shufflesWorn floor of a mythStarts…

Soft is hard to come by.